


Dig Up Her Bones, But Leave The Soul Alone

by crychan



Series: Lance Buried Alive AU [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: A LOT of screaming probably, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Betrayal, Buried Alive, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Lies, M/M, Minor Character Death, Modern AU, Original Character Death(s), Panic Attacks, Pop Culture, Suicidal Thoughts, also allura is the captain of the precinct, bc slay bitch, the office jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-15 16:21:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8063389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crychan/pseuds/crychan
Summary: A dwindling oxygen supply, an unknown location, and a half-dead cell phone. Who do you call if you're buried alive?





	1. Cobble Street Passages, Forgotten Savages

**Author's Note:**

> it's one am i just watched Buried (2010) and ive never written a fic before, but its time to bury somebody alive (probably lance) legit nothing is planned out c:
> 
> I'll try to pace this as slow as I can.
> 
> lol its 3 am now i thought i wrote like a lot more but apparently its only 1200 words omg so cray point out errors i guess beta'd by lOL NOBODY IM FUCKING ALONE c:
> 
> lol its 5 am and ive changed some of it up so reread and lemme know what you like? (We will be staying in Lance's POV, there will be no relief in knowing Keith's or Shiro's side to know if help is ACTUALLY coming, so brace yourselves for uncertainty omg)

Lance's eyes fluttered open, trying to adjust to low lighting. Even after rubbing his eyes, blinking rapidly, he couldn't see a thing. Not even his own eyelids opening and closing. Which was slightly worrying. His breathing hitched a small bit.

He tried sitting up off the wooden floor, and hit his head on the low ceiling. Lance groaned softly and tried to rub his head when his elbow abruptly banged against a wall, as if there was no space to extend his arm any further out than barely a foot. He stopped moving. Lance pulled his arm in close. He put his hand up, and almost immediately came in contact with the wooden ceiling, his arm barely extending at all. He shifted around, and his hands met the walls almost too quickly. He felt cramped. He felt _trapped with no way out and not even able to see his own fingers in front of him._

His breathing began to speed up. He started shifting and squirming, small whines of confusion and fear slipping from his mouth. He kicked the bottom to feel for another wall as his hands pushed behind his head in search of the last piece to his tomb, and sure enough, they were both there; he couldn't even extend his feet all the way, his knees knocked together against each other and the ceiling. His elbows hit the walls as he tried to reach behind him. He pulled his arms and legs closer to his body.

It was eerily quiet, besides Lance's shallow breathing and whimpering noises he distressingly tried to muffle. In an act of desperation, Lance banged his fists against the ceiling as hard as his adrenaline-energized body could. "HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME!” He screamed, his voice scratchy and raw, it cracked in a few places. “PLEASE! HELP ME!” Dirt fell between the cracks in the planks as he kept hitting. That meant he was buried. Lance was under the ground. He kept banging, he felt tears well up in his eyes at the hopelessness of the situation. A choked sob escaped his mouth, as despair began to overcome him, his mind left grasping at straws as to how or _why?_

Why was he in here? He didn't remember how this had happened. The last thing he did remember was catching a stupid animated Disney movie with his boyfriend, Keith, who was probably worried sick about him this very instant. That thought reassured him. He wasn't alone. Keith knew he was gone, and he'd know what to do. The guy probably had a Scout's badge in escaping small, claustrophobia-inducing boxes anyway. Keith was a police officer, he had just graduated and was working at the police department as a beat cop, but he was determined to climb the ladder. Meanwhile, Lance had gotten a bachelor's degree in social science, hoping to go into social work, but the market just wasn't looking for Chatty Cathy's who wanted to be paid to talking to sad kids. Lance gave up on his dream for the time being. Meanwhile Keith had probably Lojacked the car the day he became a cop. Lance would be okay. He would be okay. Keith would find him. Lance took a deep breath. Then another.

He needed light. Lance began to feel around; the ground, his pockets. He felt something in his front left pocket, and he whipped it out. By the feel of it, a thin rectangular box. He raised it to his face, and the screen lit up. He silently thanked God that whosever phone it was hadn't turned off "raise to wake", he definitely would have dropped it while looking for the power button. He unlocked the phone, checking the signal, which was barely there, the time, 10: 34 pm, and the battery life, 32%, before he turned on the flashlight.

The box was crude, not refined or finished; no paint. Just planks with nails sticking out. It seemed rushed. It was unsettling, realizing the carelessness put into this box. He took another deep breath. He won't be staying in this box forever.

Lance immediately went to the phone icon, and dialed out Keith's work number. Keith had insisted Lance memorize every bit of Keith's contact information if he ever just lost his phone or contacts, which he had done twice this year, and it was only Febuary.

Febuary. Lance shivered. It was definitely a cold Febuary night, even for Arus Beach, which was right on the west coast. By the clock's time, 10:37 pm, Lance had been gone for at least half an hour. The movie started at 8:30 and ended at 10:00. He didn't remember anything after--

"Lance?!"

Lance was suddenly broken out of his reverie by Keith's exclaim. Lance didn't know if Keith was trying to mask his worry, but if he did, he had failed; Lance had heard the fear and concern right away. He felt his throat close up in guilt and instantly wishing he had called the actual emergency services instead of his boyfriend, as much as he wanted to hear his voice. Tears pricked his eyes.

" _K-Keith..._ " Lance whimpered. His voice was still cracked and hoarse, the words barely got out. He tried to clear his throat only for it to release a new wave of pain on his throat and vocal cords. He talked anyway. "I-I-I don't know where I am, Keith," Lance said with saddening honesty.

"Th-that's okay," Keith replied, sounding like he was trying to reassure himself along with Lance. "Can you tell me what you can see so we can--" Lance cut him off with panicked shouts.

"I'm in a box, a f-fucking box, I-I don't, this isn't my phone, it was in my pocket, I don't know where I am, _please,_ " Lance rambled on, tears falling freely at the fear of nobody ever finding him. He would choke on his own exhales once all the oxygen was used up until he died. Lance didn't handle pain with that much grace, and he was sure he wouldn't be able to take suffocation. He pounded his fists on the walls and ceiling, and nothing budged, but more dirt fell through.

Saying it was so much more different than thinking it. His voice rang loud in his ears, the harsh truth seemed deafening. "I don't know where I am, I'm underground, they-they _buried_ me underground! Please find me, you-you have to find me, Keith, I don't wanna die--" Lance rasped out, looking left and right like the answer could have been right in front of him. He heard Keith talking, and he genuinely tried to listen, but Keith's voice felt like background noise.

He heard a loud high pitched noise that on the other side, on the other end of the phone, and he checked that call hadn't dropped. His hands were shaking so badly, the phone fell for a split second from one hand before he caught in the other, jumbling it around before putting his next to his ear, his breathing uneven and in ragged pants. Every once in a while, when a shiver came by, he would whimper.

"Lance, it's Shiro, stay with me, buddy." A deeper voice said. Shiro's voice was laced with patience and acceptance, but Lance sniffled and shook his head.

His chest felt tight. He couldn't have been running out of air already. "I-I, I can't--" Lance broke down a bit more. He had only been awake in this box for ten minutes, and he felt like he was suffocating.

"Lance, take a super deep breath through your nose, I know you can do it." Lance tried. He tried very hard. He took a huge whiff, snot audibly going back up his nasal cavity.

"Now breathe out your mouth." Lance did that too. His mouth a tight "o" as he forced the air out.

"Okay. Keep going, Lance, everything's going to be alright." Lance took in another breath. And another. Shiro kept promising Lance they would find him. They would do everything to get back to him.

And Lance believed him. He believed Shiro with every ounce of faith he could muster. Everything would be alright. He would see Keith again. He would kiss Keith again. He believed Shiro with almost all of his heart. Almost. There was still a small creep of doubt in the back of his mind.

A small, constant, nagging fear that this box would become his coffin.


	2. These are Hard Times for Dreamers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol im writing this all at work c: also i like lance saying keith's name a lot, idk even why  
> also lance being a huge baby and being lost without guidance is my aesthetic lol

"Lance, we need you to save the battery on your phone. What's your battery at now?"

Lance had relatively calmed down in the fifteen minutes he'd been awake. The phone had been passed back to Keith. He was still freezing.

"Uhh, twenty-five percent."

"That's great, okay, you need to go the settings and turn off any unnessecary features that would waste battery life, like checking for wifi and adjustable brightness." Lance pulled the phone away from his ear and went to the settings. When he clicked the icon, he became befuddled at his options. He couldn't read any of the names, it all looked like chicken scratchings and circles. He scrolled up and down for a glimpse of English with no such luck. He immediately put the phone back to his ear.

"Keith, I can't read the options!" At the smallest inconvinience he began to feel hopelessness. "They're all in a different language! Like Japanese or something!"

"That's okay! It's okay!" Keith's reply was instantaneous. The line was silent for a moment, and Lance double checked once again that he wouldn't be left alone. Being alone was an unwelcome feeling for Lance. Growing up in a big traditional family, he never had alone time. Especially around his twin brother, Lucas. They were constantly joined at the hip. Most people who knew them for a while had told them that they definitely didn't look much alike. But when people first met them, they could never tell the difference.

Thinking about his family only made him realize the sadness of never seeing them again. He didn't leave on bad terms, beside sibling rivalries. He just loved his family, and he really missed them, especially in this moment.

"Lance, it's okay, just don't waste time with trial and error, most smartphones will have a control panel when you swipe up or down from the bottom or top, right? You can just work almost everything from there." A different voice interjected. Shiro was still in the room, the phone must have been on speaker. They were right; when Lance swiped up, a bunch of symbols appeared, with some looking activated and other's not. He began tapping everything that was online, moving all the bars to the left, as if turning the volume down would save battery life.

"Okay, what do I do now?" A weak glow from the phone was still evident, and part of the coffin was enveloped in a soft blue hue.

"Look at the lid of the box, see if part of it is bowing inward. You should try to push it up if you see it bending down, so it breaks."

"Won't all the dirt come in?!" That seemed like the opposite of a good idea in Lance's mind.

"That'll make it easier for you to climb through, if you can break out, you can tell us where you are." It made a bit of sense. But it seemed to good to be true. Could he really escape this easily? "When it comes in, you can pack it away so more dirt fits in, which means less dirt in the way of your climbing.” Lance looked at the top. None of it seemed ready to give. "Usually the middle is the weakest." Lance gave a trepidatious shove. Nothing. Lance set the phone down, and bore all of his weight into it. _Nothing._ He grunted and pushed up against it with all strength he could muster. The wood creaked and groaned, but it barely moved. He yelled in effort, but mostly frustration. His arms felt a bit more like Jello than arms, and his knees and shins ached. He picked the phone back up.

"It's not moving, it's not bowing, it's not doing _anything_." Their entire plan was just destroyed. He had lost all hope just like that.

During his pity party, which featured Keith's hushed discussion with many other people on figuring something else out, Lance started to hear more static coming from his phone. "Keith?!" All he heard was a late garbled reply. "Hello?! Keith, are you still there?!" He pulled the phone away from his face, and saw that the reception bars were now all gone. The call ended.

"Nononono..." a string of worried sounds flooded out of his mouth. Lance moved the phone closer to the top of coffin, and swung it around, trying to regain a reception. It took a minute or two, but he got to one bar, albeit at an awkward angle that made Lance's upper torso be in a constant crunch forward. He went to the phone icon to call Keith back.

He jumped in alarm when the phone's generic ringer went off, with an number that definitely wasn't an area code he knew. He answered almost immediately, hoping maybe somebody was searching for this phone.

"Hello?!" Silence. " _Hello?!_ " Lance repeated. "Anybody, please!"

"You are Sanchez?" A gruff foreign voice said. His accent was thick, Lance could barely make out his words. 

"Yes! Yes, I am! Please, help me, some--" Lance began before the man cut him off.

"You have money?" Lance was appalled. Money?

"Money?! W-What? I don't," Lance sputtered. "What money?! I don't have anything!"

"No money, no exit." And the caller hung up. Lance was confused, and mortified. He was still processing what had just happened. He felt like the entire call flew by in one second. This man clearly knew him, and clearly knew the situation he was in. Situation, Lance commented mentally, was a horrid understatement. 

He called Keith back, once he found his bearings.

"What happened, Lance? Are you okay?" Keith's voice was moderately more controlled than it had been before. Lance briefly wondered if Keith was trying to stay strong for Lance, and he was silently thankful.

"I, um, lost reception, but when--" he began but stopped when he heared multiple sighs of relief, and something about him being close to the surface if he could make calls, and started up again. "I was going to call back, but somebody called me first. I think it was the _fucking asshole_ who put me here." Lance spat out those words with venom, as the stranger's call mentally clicked with him while he spoke. "He wants money."

"Did he have a cell number?" A new voice asked. 

"Lance, did the guy have a phone number?" Keith relayed before Lance could ask just _how many people were with Keith and Shiro?_

"Uhh, y-yeah, here..." Lance relayed the number back to them, and he heard some fierce scribbling.

"Lance, do you know the phone number of the cellphone you're calling from?" 

"No, I think it's in the settings, somewhere." Lance replied, dissapointed. 

"Lance, have you check all of your pockets for anything?" 

"No," Lance replied again, why hadn't he thought of that? "Hold on," Lance set down the phone and patted down his jacket and pants. He still had his wallet, but it was empty. He checked the inside of his jacket and found long but thin tube. He pulled it put also. He put both in one hand and grabbed the phone with the other. "I have my wallet, it's empty though, and some kind of... glow stick?" 

"Don't use the glow stick yet!" He heard several people yell, as if they all knew he would have immediately (he would have).

Lance heard some heated but quiet arguing in the background, grateful they hadn't stuck him on hold or anything, but also annoyed that he wasn't part of the conversation. Eventually it was all interrupted by a loud "got'cha!" And everybody went a lot quieter.

"Guys...? Keith? Still there?" Lance's voice wavered in worry after a minute of silence.

"Lance, I'm gonna put you on with a negotiator and hostage specialist, okay? He's gonna walk you through what to do next, alright?" Keith's voice was gentle and concerned, but Lance was lost.

"Why do I need to talk to him? Shouldn't you be getting me on the phone with MacGyver?" Lance tried to break the tension, but it was as if he could feel the dread in whatever room Keith was in through the phone. "What are you guys doing to get me out of this _right now?_ "

The phone just sent white noise for a moment before a throat cleared. "Lance, this is Captain Allura of the Arus Police Department." Oh, so Keith's boss. "I want you to know that we are doing our best to locate you. It has been rather difficult, due to the phone's language. We also cannot risk taking the phone apart to look for the serial number, as it could cause irreverable damage. We believe the man who called you to be a vital piece of a multinational drug cartel." That was probably the most bizarre sentence he'd ever heard. Lance had never been into any illegal activities. He was a good kid, never skipped class (only fell asleep in them). At the worst, Lucas was busted for smoking pot once, and he quit a month later.

"I've never even smoked a cigarette! Why would they even be here?! That's fucking insane!"

"This man always has the same MO, Lance. He always calls from a burner phone, and when it's finally traced, it says he's in like North Korea." Keith spoke up. "The specialist just wants to brief you on what not to say or do. Okay?"

"You'll stay around too, right?" Lance didn't want Keith to leave, as selfish as it was, he was scared, anyone would be if they had the kingpin of a multinational smuggling ring lock them in a coffin. Lance he needed him.

"Of course, Lance. The guy's right next to me, his name is Garrett Brenner. I'll be here the whole time." The response fills Lance with relief and he exhales a breath he didn't know he was holding.

Lance nods, even if nobody can see him.

"Okay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lolol i wanna write so much more but it's late and i wanna save some material for the next chapter lol
> 
> ALSO I PICKED BRENNER BECAUSE ITS LIKE THE SAME ROLE IN THE MOVIE AND IT SOUNDED NICE


	3. My High's Hit a New Low

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol i actually wrote some notes and ideas out for this chapter but i forgot to put in most of them

"Hi, Lance, my name is Garrett Brenner. But, most people just call me Hunk."

Lance answered after a moment. "Hi, Hunk. That is a _weird_ name."

"I know right?" Lance felt a bit more at ease with Hunk's less-than-professional approach. "Lance, you said the guy wanted money right?"

"Y-Yeah, but he didn't say how much."

"That's fine. Nobody's going to pay him, okay?"

Lance froze. "What? Why not?! He won't let me out if there's no money!" His voice grew more and more frantic with each second that passed. The caller knew where he was buried! It made sense to pay him!

"If you give him what he wants, he's just going to ask for more. So you can't do anything that he says. If he calls you again, don't give away anything personal, if your wallet's empty, they have your identification." Thank goodness Lance only had eight thousand probably used gift cards and some cash.

"They have your phone. They know who you are, where you're from, where you live, where your family lives..." Lance's breath stopped. Hunk seemed to have realized what he said. His family. It was quiet on both sides.

"Lance, we're sending a few squad cars to your family's home, if they do try to use your family as hostages, they'll be safe." Allura, once again the voice of reason. Lance's shoulders dropped and he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Speaking of these _dickwads_ , why would they even be in this city? It's some quiet beach town."

"Exactly. We're small, quiet, and have a dock and harbour. Overseas smuggling is practically a no-brainer."

"Lance, I'm going to call your brother, okay, just to make sure everybody's okay. I'll be right back." And Keith was gone.

"Okay. How can I get you guys to find me?"

It was silent for a moment. "The easiest way would be to get the phone number and just trace it." Shiro spoke up in the background. "Then dig you up." He added last.

"If we just saw what language it was, we could translate it." A new voice suggested.

"Or if Lance can figure out what kind of phone he has, we can get the same phone here." Hunk's plan was the only one that seemed do-able. Lance pulled the phone away from his ear and flipped it around in his hand.

"It's like, an iPhone, it looks pretty new?" Was all Lance could offer. The only thing Lance lost more than his smartphone was his apartment key. He lost or broke his phone so often that they had resorted to getting him used ones to save cash, so he was always a billion generations behind.

"That's great!" The new voice exclaimed. "Most iPhones have the same settings!" Lance heard a door close.

"Lucas is at work, he's not even home, and I didn't tell him anything, don't worry." Lucas worked at the docks almost 24/7. For once, Lance supported his workaholism. "And I have an iPhone." And it was silent once again for a moment before Lance heard Keith again. "Okay, go back to your settings."

"Click the 10th option."

"Now click the... four, five, six, seven... tenth option again."

"Okay, click the top row."

Lance saw all the language options. He quickly scrolled to English, pressed it, then pressed the now top right corner, and pressed the option that contained actual English, he assumed it was just a confirmation tab. The screen went black with only the words "Setting Language" on it. The call got quiet and Lance silently begged the phone to hurry up. Lance exclaimed in surprise and happiness not only to see his phone in a language he understood, but also to see the call hadn't ended. "It's in English!"

Lance heard many whoops and cheers while Lance perused the settings once again. He even heard a "Nice job, Lance!" Even though Keith did everything, but it inspired him with confidence and hope that he would escape. Lance rattled off his phone number once he found it. He wasn't sure how long the room was deathly silent for until two things happened. One: somebody exclaimed about cell phone towers and triangles. And two: his phone buzzed. He pulled it away from his ear and glanced at it. The stranger was calling him again.

"He's calling me back."

Hunk's response was instantaneous. "Do _not_ answer it, okay? We're coming for you now!" He heard a lot of shuffling. The buzzing felt loud against his ear. He felt a _need_ to pick up the phone, as if it would prevent some disaster from occurring.

"What if he has somebody hostage or something?" That was a dumb thought, Allura had said she had sent the police to his family's house. "Did you ever hear back from them? The police?" It was quiet, and it only made Lance more uncertain. "He's gonna hang up, I have to answer it, what if he hurts somebody?!" He felt like an idiot for freaking out when rescue was so close. But he had a nagging feeling that if he didn't pick up this phone, then he'd be endangering his family. It felt like a bomb, and if Lance didn't stop the vibrating before it stopped itself, he felt like the man on the other end would do something drastic. He would kill somebody. "I'm gonna call right back, okay? Just hold on!"

"Lance, don't--!"

 

"Hello, I'm here! I'm here!" Lance shouted into the phone.

"Sanchez. Why did it take six rings? You have money?"

"I-I don’t even know what money you’re talking about!" Which was probably the wrong way to answer that.

"Should I keep you in there for _six fucking weeks and send you to your fucking boyfriend in fucking pieces?! Where is my money?!_ "

"I don't know! I really don't know! I don't know anything!"

"Do you need to be properly motivated?" Lance was plenty motivated. Lance had been in a coffin for 40 minutes. He didn't have much time left. He would have sent any money he had if he could have. "149 Westminster Avenue." That's...

"Not my house." Lance was a horrible liar.

"Your mother here says otherwise." After that, Lance heard some scuffling in the background, then a sudden gunshot and a scream. Lance jumped in surprise and hit his head on the roof.

"W-What just happened?! What did you do?!" He could hear sobbing and shushing.

"Motivation, Sanchez. Get me my _fucking money._ " He heard the phone fall, probably on the floor and heard another gunshot before the line went dead. His ears were ringing, his body felt like it wasn't even there. He couldn't even feel the fat tears dripping down his chin. He called Keith's personal phone this time, assuming they were really coming to get him. Assuming he wouldn't be dead in forty minutes.

"Lance, what the fuck?!"

" _Keith..._ " Lance whimpered. He was certain he had just doomed somebody. He sniffled. "He, umm, he shot somebody. I think he killed them. I think they killed the officers. He's in my house. He's holding my family hostage."

"Lance..." Was all Keith said. "Listen, we're splitting up. Shiro, Allura and, like, the national _fucking guard_ are going to your house. They're gonna save _everybody._ Okay? Pidge, Hunk, everybody on duty and I are gonna drive to you, okay? You're only transmitting from one cell phone tower, so we have like, a 45 mile radius." It was silent except for the sounds of boots crunching on the ground. "We're gonna find you, I swear."

Lance didn't reply. Actually, his phone was next to his hand, on the floor. His tears had dried onto his face, his hand cupped around his ear, fear and nerves from his last phone call on the backburner. He had originally thought maybe he had heard something. He probably imagined it.

Until he heard it again. About a minute later. Was it... music? It sounded really faint, but at the same time, if he could hear it, it must have been very loud up close. He scrambled for the phone. "I can hear music, there’s music nearby!"

"In February?" Was Keith's reply.

"Maybe it’s a party!" He heard Keith tell "Pidge" to look up who was holding parties tonight, but seriously, how many could there be in this small beach town? And how does one look up parties?

"Lance, there's only two parties close to the tower you're transmitting from, so we're going to the closer one first, and sending a party of people to the other one as well. How well can you hear the music?"

"It’s very quiet, but it sounds... kind of just, bad."

He heard Keith make a small chuckle. "Okay, if we can maybe hear the same song, we'll know if we're at the right party. And if you hear footsteps by you, start banging."

"Okay..." Lance glanced at his phone battery and time. It was 10:58 pm, and due to the constant phone call, the phone was at 12%. A drastic drop in his twenty minute phone call. " _Please hurry._ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol i give this chapter a 0/10 for goodability and a 10/10 for awkward sentencing and pacing and a 0/10 for remembering anything i just wrote
> 
> also sorry i cant post for a while, it takes like all day to do a chapter and i have a math test coming up, expect a new chapter like Thursday Night/Friday Morning (morning as in 12-6amlololol)


	4. Kissing Death and Losing my Breath

"Lance, what's your phone at?" Keith cut through the white noise. They still hadn't hung up.

"Ten." Lance knew he should have hung up a while ago. They hadn't even been talking much. But he didn't want to lose his one connection with the world beyond this _horrible_ fucking box.

"The battery's just gonna drain from the phone call, we shouldn't waste it. We'll call you when we get to the party, okay?" It was silent for nearly a minute.

"Okay." Lance's voice was reluctant. He was 1000% against this plan. What if Keith got news from his family or Shiro? What if they were going to the wrong party? He doubted a few seconds till they realized the song was wrong would do much in the long run, but he also doubted he would ever be buried in a coffin and be slowly dying from his own exhales. "Call me when you get to the party, or if Shiro calls back about my family. Okay?"

"I promise. We're almost to the party, please save your battery." Lance exhaled the smallest sigh or relief ever, and a tear slid down the side of his face. "Lance," His voice was loud and all-encompassing in the phone speaker. _"Keith,"_ he wanted to say, but his voice just wouldn't come out. "I love you." Lance held his breath. Even dying in a coffin, miles away from anybody who even knew him, Keith could still take his breath away.

" _I, I love you, too!_ " Lance choked the words out. Lance ended the call, and dropped the phone next to him. He pushed his knees up and his back slid down as low as it could go before his long legs hit the ceiling. He dug the heels of his palms into his eyes and a sob ripped from his chest. He tried to end his crying quickly, Lord knows how much precious oxygen he was wasting.

 

Minutes passed and the coffin was eerily quiet. A constant reminder of how poetic it would be to be buried and be alive, and _then_ die while trying to escape. Lance shifted again so his cramping legs could stretch, his back crunched up against the low roof and back wall. He'd been doing this ever few minutes, and the burning/pins and needles sensation definitely helped bring feeling back into his fingers and toes. He felt frozen solid. And the night was only seeming to get colder. Lance's mind could barely form thoughts. The only thing on his mind was _Damn, I really need to pee_. Lance figured if he did die, his body would just pee itself anyway, which would be a great way for Keith to find him. _If_ Keith found him.

The phone buzzed. Lance took a painstaking amount of time moving his knees back up and his back back down and grabbed the phone sluggishly, as if he was just woken from a nap. "Keith?" He slurred out his words.

" _Sanchez._ " Lance's blood ran cold. Colder than it was already. Where were Shiro and Allura? _Dead._ They had to be. " _Money._ "

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I still don't have it, please, please. I don't even know who you are! Or how much you want! Please!"

"You know who the _fuck_ I am! You'd feign such fucking _ignorance_ to your fucking _boss_?!" Lance hadn't worked a steady job in almost a year. He did the odd jobs and favours for friends, like help them move, and did a few nights Uber-ing a week. Only enough to not use much gas and also turn a profit. He was about to tell him he's probably got the wrong guy when the caller spoke up again. " _Need some more motivation?_." His voice was dark and sinister, gravely with an sharp edge of danger.

"No, please no, I swear, I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about! Please, please, please," Lance babbled and he heard the man on the other side sigh, as if he was growing bored of this conversation. He heard fingers snap together in the background and the man said a few more words.

"Talk to your shithead brother." Lucas? They had Lucas? But Lance didn't want to say anything, he had doomed so many people, if he said anything, they'd probably kill him. They'd definitely kill him. " _TALK._ "

"Lu-" He started but Lucas interrupted him almost immediately.

" _Lucas._ " He said his own name? "Thank God, you're okay, where are you? Are you hurt?"

"I-I'm _fucking buried_ , I'm in a coffin, they buried me, they want money." Lance rattled off his situation quickly, he needed to know what was happening on the other side. "Tell me what's happening, are you all okay? Who did he shoot? Are they dead?" That last question felt heavy on his tongue.

"I-I don't know, th-they just got me."

"Tell him how."

It was silent for a moment. Lucas spoke up.

"I was going to leave the city. I saw the vans, and I guess they saw me, so I peeled out of there, but they followed, and they crashed the car." Lance's mind seemed to run in slow motion. His brother was going to leave him, and abandon his family, without saying anything? "I think everything will be okay, now, Lucas."

"How? I'm in a fucking coffin, I'm going to die, and why are you calling me fucking Lucas?!"

"B-because that’s your name! Y-You're Lucas, a-and I'm Lance." Sans the stuttering, he said it like it made so much sense to him.

"No more games, Lucas Sanchez." _Click._

" _Give me the card. Tell me where it is._ "

“I don’t know! I don’t know what you’re talking about, what card?”

” _Stop the lying, now_!”

"Please, don’t he doesn’t know! He doesn’t lie, he doesn’t _know!_ "

"Nonononono, please, _Please_! I-I don't know where it is! _I don't know!_ I don't know anything, I swear! I don’t know!"

"No! _NO!_ "

A loud bang errupted through the room. It was dead silent.

 

"GET DOWN ON THE _FUCKING_ GROUND!" It had been a door, bursting off of it’s hinges, not a gunshot.

"Enjoy your cozy little coffin, Sanchez."

_Click._

Lance had a few minutes to process everything thats had happened in the emotional span of a second before his phone went off again. It was the same number.

He picked up, but was silent except for his rattled breathing.

"Lance? You there?"

" _S-Shiro?_ "

"Yeah, it's me." A choked sob of relief made it past his lips.

" _Shiroooo._ " Lance sobbed. He gasped and hiccuped and sputtered out his questions, which Shiro probably didn't understand.

"Everybody's okay, Lance. They didn't kill or hurt your family." But the officers...

" _I'm so sorry,_ " He rasped out.

"Lance, it's not your fault, you can't blame yourself."

Bzzt. Bzzt.

"Keith’s calling me, Shiro." He took a deep, snotty breath. “I’m going to a-answer.

"Okay, Allura's already on her way to Keith and I will meet them at the party. Hang tight."

 

"Lance, you still okay?”

”Shiro and Allura got to my family. They’re okay.” His voice was thick, but he wiped his tears and cleared his throat.

”That’s great, we're at the party, can you still hear the music?"

Lance sniffled, wiped his nose with his finger and intently listened." I think so."

"Alright, tell me if the song changes." Then Lance heard some shuffling and talking on his phone, so he just set it down, so he could hear the faint music better. It kept fading in and out when it got quieter, so he couldn't tell. He grabbed his phone.

"Keith, Keith, I don't know! It's too quiet!"

"Okay..." Lance could barely hear him with the roaring sounds of party/goers.

"Keith!"

"What's wrong?"

"How many people are at this party?"

"Easily a thousand?"

”Maybe you could get them all to yell about something? If they’re all loud enough, and I can hear it, then we’ll be at the same party!”

”Scream about what, thought?”

"I-I don't know, they'd probably love it to see a cop do keg-stand or something."

Lance heard somebody mutter a sarcastic "Brilliant," under their breath, then some shuffling and the feedback of a microphone. "Attention, party-goers!" Allura's voice boomed. "This is the captain of the Arus Police Department." He heard many boos that settled down almost as abruptly as it started. "I'm not here to shut down the party." It was quiet for a second. "I'm here to _DO SOME SHOTS!_ "

"What?" Lance exclaimed, which was mimicked by Keith, Hunk, and a third person.

It seemed to have done the trick. Lance put the phone down and could hear a chorus chant of "Shots!"

"I can hear it, Keith! Oh my God I can hear it!" Keith didn't respond for a moment, or maybe he hadn't heard him. "Keith!"

"Alright! We're getting the officers from the other party to come and search a half-mile radius with us!" Lance heard boots hit the pavement. "Hang tight, Lance, we’re almost the-"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> phone ded


	5. Sing Me to Sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was a pain in my ass omg and we're almost doneeee

"No." Lance pulled the phone away from his ear. All that was showing was a loading symbol. "Nononono." It was pitch black. The phone was all the light he had been using during this hell of an hour. Ish. With the phone gone, so was his clock, and his link to anything about the outside world. " _NononononofuckfuckfuckFUCKFUCKFUCK_ _!_ " Lance threw the phone towards his feet, he heard it shatter and felt some of the glass on his pant leg. He repeatedly banged his fists against the ceiling of the coffin in sheer frustration. Ironically, his fear of being alone while stuck in here had doomed him to being alone while stuck in here. He screamed with all of his energy and practically seethed fury. This had been the final straw. Keith and Shiro and Hunk and Allura had made being in this claustrophobic coffin _bearable_ , and now he was alone with his thoughts. The thoughts he could barely form. He screamed, and cried, and hit the walls with all his might. The cramped feeling magnified.  

 

 

 Lance exhausted himself almost instantly. He laid motionless on the ground, his back flat, knees up against the ceiling. He wore a dull expression, although it couldn't be seen. It was pitch black. He wheezed in the thin air and his eyes were nearly lidded shut. His lungs rattled and his breathing was shallow. His mind felt hazy due to the cold and small bit of air left in his coffin. Coffin. When had he even started calling it a coffin instead of a box? He couldn't remember.  

He felt nothing. Except scared. Not of never seeing Keith again. Not of never seeing his family again. Scared of the pain that would come when he ran out of air. He wished he could end it faster, hadn't he suffered enough? If was gonna go, he wanted to go peacefully. Like dying in his sleep, or decapitation. Lance's eyes widened the smallest bit with an idea. He shuffled a bit. Kicked the phone back up to himself. He grabbed the phone and got small bits of glass in his fingers. He held the screen in front of his eyes, as if it would help see it better. He rubbed his hand across the screen until he felt a huge crack. He pulled and banged at the screen until he savagely ripped out a big enough chunk of the glass. He held it tight in his grip.

One quick stab. That's all it would take, really. Hit a major artery, he'd be done like _that_. It'd be fast, painless, _blissful_. He lined it up with the side of his neck, felt it poke his skin, and even that hurt a small bit for Lance. He really couldn't handle pain. He heard the pitter patter of rain above. He really couldn't have been that deep. He was so close, yet so far. So close to freedom, in every sense. He took a deep breath through his nose. He exhaled in a tight "o" shape out of his mouth.  

 _Keep going, Lance, everything's going to be alright._ Shiro's words seemed so pointless now. _Everything's going to be alright._ It felt like a lie. It seemed hopeless. He couldn't feel anything remotely close to hope. He wasn't shivering anymore, but his hand was still shaking. He took another deep breath. He gripped the glass with frustration. "Get on with it..." He mumbled to himself, it was barely audible, barely coherent, barely _con_ _s_ _cious_. He pulled the shard back. _One, two..._  

Then he heard it. Tap, tap, tap, tap. Among the rhythmic rainfall he could hear a tapping that got closer. Footsteps? Footsteps. _Footsteps_. Lance's grip on the shard loosened. They were here. He was being rescued. Everything would be fine. He would see Keith, and Shiro, and meet Hunk and Allura. Lance banged his fists against the coffin lid, and screamed with all his might.  

" _HELP! PLEASE HELP ME! HELP ME!"_ While banging, he tightened his grip on the glass, and he could feel it dig into his skin. He kept slamming his fists into the coffin, kept screaming and then he heard it, a shovel. _Digging_. _Digging him out_. Lance didn't even know he was crying, thank yous, and I love yous spilling out of his mouth as Keith and his coworkers dug him up. He was wasting his air, it was pretty much gone when he heard the shovel hit the coffin. Lance could barely form words. He took small gasps, his air had essentially run out. He could feel the smile on his face. " _Keith..._ " Was all he got out before he choked on nothing. It didn't matter, he'd be free any second.  

 

 

 _THWACK_. 

Metal glistened in the barest glimpse of moonlight against the blade that had pierced the wood of the coffin. An axe. So close to his face. If he had leaned forward, he'd have been dead. The axe ripped itself out of the wood and an eye came in to block the moonlight. The person said nothing. Lance's heart filled with dread as the crack refueled his oxygen-deprived brain. Wasn't Keith. Or an officer. Somebody sent to purposely kill him. Somebody sent by that _horrible fucking scumbag who'd made Lance's life a nightmare_. A shriek of pure terror erupted from his throat as the axe came down again. Lance cowered away from it. The man spoke a foreign language under his breath. The axe chopped lower and lower, cutting the lid slowly in half, to open it, if Lance had to guess.  

Lance should have taken his own life when he had the chance. He had to think. He grabbed the glowstick and cracked it, Keith be damned. Keith had abandoned him. So had Hunk, and Shiro, and Allura. He looked around the coffin. Everything glowed an eerie green hue. He saw the same nails jutting out of the coffin lid. Nails. Glow stick. A thought wormed into Lance's head, his thoughts foggy with the cold. He'd watched those dumb videos where the idiot heats up a glow stick and it shatters the glass inside and the guy gets chemicals in his eyes. Great idea. Sarcastic or not, it was the only idea Lance had. He shimmied over to the coffin lid near his head. He jammed the glow stick onto the nail to try and break it open. He whimpered as he heard the man continue to cut the coffin open, he must have been halfway down, but this coffin was small. 

 _Crack_. He heard the nail pierce the glow stick, the cracked it back and forth until the stick became sticks, half in each hand. Some hydrogen peroxide splashed onto Lance's clothes, around his neck and collar of his shirt, and his hand. It _burned_. He put both halves of the glow stick in his uninjured hand and slammed his burned hand on the ground. He rubbed his shirt on the burns on his neck. He yelled in short gasps until the pain faded into the adrenaline. He looked up, and saw the man looming above him in the small holes the axe made. He couldn't see his face. The coffin cracked open, and rain flooded in. He could see the moon, faintly, behind the clouds. He could see the man, with an unreadable expression. And he could see a gun, aimed between his eyes. 

Lance chose to strike sooner rather than later. He sat up, jumped into a crouch and launched at the man, swinging the two halves of the glow stick chemicals into the man's face. The man screamed in pain and fired three shots blindly, thankfully missing. He put his left foot on the left side of the coffin and made a grab at the gun and aimed it up. The man fired two more times. Five down, like, ten more to go. Lance scrambled his way out of the hole, his limbs felt wobbly, he had almost no strength, even with adrenaline. The man blindly grabbed at his leg and tried to drag him back, still rubbing his eyes against his coat. Lance flung his trapped leg about, eventually using his other leg to kick the man's gun to the opposite side of the hole. Then he kicked his face. His body felt asleep, he didn't know how he was moving. The attacker loosened his hold and Lance began to pick himself back up. He started stumbling around the hole and snatched the gun, albeit missing at the first grab, then backing up, tripping over nothing. The man, who was more or less used to his eyes burning, climbed out, and limbered towards him. Lance was shaking as the rain soaked their clothes. The man growled in frustration. The man advanced. Lance couldn't move, he had the upper hand, and yet his body wouldn't listen to him He could practically hear the man's scoff over the roar of the rain and blood in his ears. " _Please... stay away..._ " Lance's voice was practically gone, he had probably screamed during their entire altercation. The man kept advancing, he was a foot away. _Shoot him_. He couldn't. He just _couldn't_. Why couldn’t he? His body felt like lead. He was getting closer. He was going to die. 

He felt the gun leave his hands, and could see down the barrel. His legs gave out, and he fell to his knees, sniffling, thinking of all the ways he could have done this differently, done this right. Could have shot him. Could have ran. Could have saved the battery. Could have not picked up the phone when they were already looking for him. Could have stayed in tonight. Could have never moved to this city with his family. 

All of their effort would be wasted. They had tried so hard to find him. And he had messed up every step of the way. He probably somehow deserved this. He kept his head down. Didn't want to give his killer the sick satisfaction of showing his suffering. He had been so close to dying so many times in the past five minutes, honestly it was beginning to lose its luster. He heard the man laugh under his breath, like he was seeing something only remotely amusing. Was Keith even looking in the right direction? The more Lance thought about how much everything had gone wrong in the past hour and a half, the more angry he got. Didn't shoot the man about to kill him, didn't run when he could have, didn't save the battery, couldn't hear the music, couldn't help save his family, couldn't find his phone number faster, couldn't do anything to help anybody. He felt the cold metal on his head and jumped. And that’s when he realized. 

 _I don't want to die_. He didn't. The situation was hopeless, with only one outcome, his death. And he didn't want to die. He felt the gun press in deeper, and Lance closed his eyes, tears sliding down his face. " _Please, don't..._ "  

 _Idon'twannadieIdon'twannadieIdon'twannadieIdon't_ _\--_  

 

 

 

 _BANG!_  

 _Thud._  

 

 

 

His body was so tense that he didn't move a muscle, as if doing it would kill him as effectively as a bullet. He kept his eyes closed, his head down. Then he felt it. A full body tackle to the ground. The air audibly left his lungs. He slowly opened his eyes. He could see the moon, faintly, behind the clouds. He could see Keith above him, and he could see the tears in his eyes. " _Keith..._ " He throat felt tight and raw, and his face felt heavy.  

" _Lance, I'm so sorry_." Keith's face disappeared and he felt it press into his neck. " _I'm sorry, I should have found you sooner, I should have never let this happen_ _in the first place_ _._ " He heard Keith sniffle. " _This is all my fault_." What? Keith's fault? Lance wanted to protest, but at the same time, he felt like sleeping for a thousand years. "Lance?"  

Keith's weight lifted on him. Lance couldn't feel the rain on his skin. Couldn't feel Keith's hand on his cheek. His eyes were slowly fluttering shut. Keith was calling his name, but it sounded so far away. He could feel the suffocating darkness approaching, and let it overtake him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> would you like Lucas's, Keith's, the kingpin, and/or Shiro's side?
> 
> lol sorry for such a long wait, iM LEARNING HOW TO DRIVEEEEEEE (its terrifying, and it i dont complete the training by like mid november i gotta pay another $700 lolol i procrastinated on it for a yEAR, its like 1/4ish done, maybe more, i have three more scenes in my head, and another fic that isnt about this problem but still the same lance and keith)


	6. I Guess That's Better Than A Grave and a Hearse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> IM BACKKKK
> 
> i felt bad for not posting for almost a month (so sorryyy!!)
> 
> so im posting what i got now and will draw this out for a while.
> 
> thanks for waiting!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its legit like 5:30 am and i just finished this part and it looks like a good place to end a chapter so mini update cc:

Lance didn't really "wake up". He just became slightly more aware of his surroundings. Not by much. He knew he wasn't dead, but that was it. 

Originally, it was pitch black. As he slowly became more aware, it shifted into a dull greyness. And suddenly, a bright burst of white painfully flooded his vision, blinding him for a time unknown. Lance willed the darkness to return, and it did so, much to his relief. 

Lance eventually returned to his senses some time later. He just wanted to continue sitting in limbo, it was much easier to deal with than the harsh reality of the worst hour and a half of his life. 

Against his will, he seemed to wake up more and more, albeit slowly. He stopped floating off in nowhere, began to feel the pressure of a bed, and the warmth of a body next to him. He sluggishly shifted himself closer to it. The memories of what had transpired slowly sifted into his brain. He remembered being trapped, getting out, and fighting somebody. He also remembered being cold. _So cold._ He had picked form over function that night and hadn't anticipated being outside for more than five or ten minutes, to walk to and from the car during the evening. Instead, he had been locked in a box, with blue jeans and a white t-shirt, on a frigid February night. 

Lance still hadn't opened his eyes. He wanted to bathe in the dark warmth for a bit longer. He shifted closer to the emitting heat again and felt a resistance on his forearm. He frowned and tugged a bit harder. It felt his arm was under a blanket tucked too tight. He must have made a bit of noise because the warmth he was currently taking for granted started shifting around. He felt a tight, warm embrace around his body. Lance finally opened his eyes. 

A white wall. A closed door on the left side of his vision. A corner to his right. He couldn't see much as to below him, some of his vision was obscured by the shoulder of the embrace. He reciprocated the gesture, his hands forming clenched fists as tight as his still-asleep hands could. He rested his head in the crook of his neck and inhaled deeply. There was a feeling of freedom that came with not having to worry about running out of oxygen.  

It was silent. Lance wasn't sure if Keith just didn't want to say anything or if he was giving Lance time to collect and prepare himself. It was silent and as the hug got looser, Lance spoke up. 

"What..." He started, but it didn't seem right, so he grimaced and tried again. "When I..." He paused again, he didn't know how we wanted to phrase this question, he just wanted to know what had happened, but apparently he couldn't make himself say it. His body felt like pins and needles, and so did his tongue, he guessed. Keith seemed to understand his question regardless. 

"The, um, the doctors said you had super bad hypothermia. Like _super bad_." Keith emphasised the second time, as it that'd help Lance understand. "Like you couldn't feel anything by the time we got here. They hooked you up to like heated medicine, to help warm you back up, and they said sharing body... heat... helps..." Keith's final words slowed to a stop but were laced with awkwardness while they lasted. 

"… Aren't they supposed to be naked for that?" Lance congratulated himself on that being his first full sentence since seeing Keith. Keith's eyes were heavily interested in the IV stand. 

"…" 

"… Oh my God we're naked." Keith's eyebrows shot up into the ceiling and he recoiled, staring at Lance again with his face red as fire. 

"No! We have... underwear..." Keith's voice trailed off again. Lance snuggled up closer to Keith, as seductively as one can and grinned coyly.  

"What base would you call this?" He murmured. 

"Like, fourth base?" 

"Keith there's only three bases in baseball. And when people say fourth base, they usually mean a home run, like, sex." 

"I thought that was sixth base." 

"How many bases do you think there are in baseball?! Also, what do you think fifth base is?!" 

"Oh my God, you ruined the moment." 

"Hey, I _started_ this moment, I'll ruin it if I want to!" 

Their arguing was interrupted by a loud, "Ahem!". Both of them jumped and snapped their heads around to stare at four visitors looking wildly entertained. Keith seemedto regain his composure quickly. "H-How long have you guys been here?" 

"Long enough," Shiro replied with a small grin. 

"What's fifth base?" A person Lance didn't recognise asked aloud. 

"Oh, Pidge." A chubby man tutted, shaking his head. "Poor, naive, innocent Pidge." Lance squinted his eyes at the man he didn't know. His voice was awfully familiar. 

"Wait, so are you..." Lance began but trailed off as he tried to remember his name. "Um... It's a G or an H... Ugh, it's like, morning brain." He snapped his fingers as he tried to recall the man's name, since he had only heard it once, however long ago. 

"It's, like, four-thirty in the afternoon, you can't have morning brain," Keith informed. 

"Harriot? Gordon, maybeeee?" Lance continued. "Your nickname was like Hank, or Huge, or Hunk, Hunk?" Lance smacked his hands together and pointed finger guns at the man. "Boom, I give myself a ten-outta-ten for Palace of the Mind-ing that." 

"That's not even close to what that is. It'd be Palace of the Mind if you associated _Garrett_ 's face with Hank from the Office, then got Hunk from that." 

"Whatever, I'm amazing." 

"So." Shiro cleared his throat again and everyone's attention diverted back to him. "Lance, we just wanted to tell you about everything that's happened, from our perspective." And poof went Lance's naïve hope of sweeping this under the carpet as just, _one of those things_. He knew that the situation that had transpired was serious, but he still had a vain hope that Shiro would just leave it be. "You don't have to say a lot if you don't want to, we just have a few questions, just say as much as you're comfortable with." 

 

Lance didn't miss much in between phone calls or in the background; he did learn that Pidge had been the one to trace his phone and be a huge nerd, which he stated aloud, and received a stern ear-pulling from them. When Shiro and Allura had "raided" (Lance had said to call it that because it sounded more _espionage_ , and also eased some of the tension, he stopped interrupting after that.) his family's home, Shiro did his best to describe it as delicately as he could, saying the house was "a mess", as if it only have gross dishes in the sink and dirty laundry on the floor. Keith's grip on Lance's hand tightened as he spoke about the officers, and Lance's chest panged in guilt. He wondered if Allura was perhaps feeling the same way, as the captain, ordering the cruisers to the home, did she feel like she'd sent them to the slaughter? It was an unwelcome and saddening thought. 

Keith stepped in the discuss what had occurred at the party. "So, when we were on the balcony with the DJ at the party, we saw this one guy just _leave_ as soon as Allura introduced herself. So after the phone died, we followed him, and to be completely honest, we got a little bit lost. We were mostly following his footprints, but the rain kind of messed it all up. So, we like kept walking in circles till we heard a gunshot. When we got there, we saw the guy, like, about to kill you. You were just... on the ground, and he had a gun to your head, and I pulled out my weapon, and I told him to stop, but he didn't move, and I couldn't even--" Keith sucked in a breath, he had gradually sped up while talking and his body was fully tense. "I couldn't shoot! I like, froze up, you were about to _die_ , and I couldn't save you. I was _right there_." It was as if Keith's guilt was a palpable thing, everybody could feel it.  

"Keith, nobody's blaming you for that, especially not me." Lance gripped Keith's hand tightly. "Wanna hear something stupid?" He didn't wait for Keith to respond. "The guy, I totally managed to snag his gun, and I was going to shoot him myself, and _I froze up too_. Even after he tried to kill me, I couldn't bring myself to just pull a stupid trigger. I don't think I could have lived with myself if I did. We're just too pure of cinnamon rolls." He joked, and Keith sported a small grin you wouldn't have noticed if you didn't see it form. It dropped after a moment. 

"But, it's different," Keith went on, "I'm a police officer, I'm supposed to--" This was where Allura cut him off abruptly. 

"Keith." Her tone was grim and heavy. "Nobody's ever _supposed to_ take a life. Even if the person they were going to kill took other people lives and was a horrible person. And even if you are a police officer. Nothing will ever make you ready for that. Ever."  

 

Allura and everybody left after a while, and by a while, Lance meant an hour and a half. It turned out he and Hunk were going to be best friends. They had similar interests and could annoy Keith with twice as much power. Shiro never got to ask those questions. 

 

Lance was discharged the next morning, although they didn't leave until around lunch, due to six wheelchair races and a twenty-minute tour of the parking garage in search of Keith's car. 

They passed buildings as they sped by, Lance resting his against his hand, head slightly out of the window, watching, but not letting anything sink in. It was warm, incredibly so, especially for the frigid iciness of that night. Some funky old jam blared through an old radio. He could hear Keith's fingers tapping on the wheel. He felt unsure about what to do next. Should he go visit his brother? Keith had mentioned that they'd brought him into custody and he definitely had a few questions. Should he see his family? As much as he knew he should, he really wanted some time to do nothing, even though he had been asleep for pretty much an entire day. He glanced at the gauze around his hand. He thought the glow stick had burned him, but the skin on his hand and neck were just badly irritated. The pain in his hand had come from glass embedding in his thumb and wrist. He felt like he could see the angry red his hand had flared with through the material. 

The world around him seemed to fade away. He couldn't smell the dying air freshener anymore. Couldn't see the buildings passing by. He couldn't even feel his seat. 

Banging on his coffin, screaming himself hoarse for help. He didn't hear himself. Why couldn't he hear himself? He could hear music. It wasn't as faint as the party music had been, but still felt far away. The music got louder. 

 _The_ _devil'_ _s in a rush,_    
_His duct tape makes you hush._  

He was still screaming, but it sounded louder, he could at least hear himself. The coffin was splitting in half again, but with much more force and speed as he felt possible. As if instead of the agonisingly slow pace, the person actually wanted to make this quick.  

The music got louder. 

 _Hey, there, Sedona,_ _lemme_ _cut you a deal,_  

 _I'm a little hungover and I may have to steal your soul... Oh, oh..._  

The coffin opened, and he felt like air had flooded his body, he hadn't even known he had had none left. He didn't feel scared anymore, the outlines of his vision were getting blurry, fuzzy, like static on a dying TV. 

 

He blinked. He wasn't faced with the killer. He saw violet eyes, black hair, red jacket. 

"Are you okay?" Keith's voice held a concerned tone. Lance, nodded, his head bobbing along, to reassure him. 

"Are you really?" He inquired again, as if he didn't believe him. He was confusingly exhausted. Lance felt his eyes fill up as he was continuing to nod, but then started shaking his head and his face began scrunching up, hands trembling as he reached over to Keith. 

Keith embraced him. Tightly. Unlike that loose kind of tight the coffin held. You felt like you had free space, but when you moved, you always bumped into something and stayed right where you were. Lance sobbed into his shoulder, talking, but the words getting lost as his throat closed up. Keith just nodded and put his lips to his hair. He murmured "I know"s and "It's okay"s. They stayed like that for a while, the radio now quietly playing in the background.

 

 _Well, hey, Little Hollywood,_  

 _You're gone but,_  

 _You're not forgot_ _,_  

 _You got the,_  

 _Cash, but your credit's no good,_  

 _You flipped the script, and you shot the plot._  

 _And I remember, I remember when your neon used to burn,_  

 _So bright and pink,_  

 _So bright and pink,_  

 _A Saturday n_ _ight,_  

 _Kinda_ _pink._  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the song is Sedona by Houndmouth, an old fave (lol it came out last year), ya dig ccc:
> 
> I hope this makes up for it. I'll try to write a bit more this weekend! 
> 
> but i have two tests on monday cri


	7. Almost Heaven, West Virginia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i RUSHED IT OKAY I WANTED IT OUT SO I RUSHED OKAY IM SORRY I JUST WANTED IT TO BE READ AND LOVED

When Lance stopped crying and began to tense up, Keith pulled away. "Let's get out of the car," Keith suggested. He waited for Lance to leave first, which he did, after he had scrubbed his eyes clean and blew his nose into his sleeve.  
Lance stretched in the open air, taking up as much space as he could. He looked at their destination. Small, one story cottage. He hadn't seen the place in forever, or that's what it felt like. In reality, it had been two-ish days. Maybe three at the max. He hears the car door close, not slam, behind him and heard Keith's footsteps approaching. "Come on," Keith urged, but his voice swelled with comfort. They entered, and the door shut softly behind them.

 

  
Another few days later, Lance visited the precinct. He hadn't done much during those days besides follow Keith around, who was on an unpaid family caregiver leave. It had taken a while for Lance to even be used to being alone again. When they had first gotten back, Lance had even followed Keith into the bathroom, sitting on the edge of the tub or keeping the door open while Keith did whatever he needed to do (which made Keith decide early to only go to the bathroom at night when Lance was asleep). Lance realized that he slowly got less clingy, eventually being able to shower with the curtain open, which left water everywhere. It may have been messy, but he felt better, like there was more space.

  
"Lance." He was broken out of his reminiscing with a soft touch on his shoulder. He managed to stifle a flinch and glance up at Shiro, who was looking at him with a kind and patient face. "Are you sure you really want to see him? We can explain it to him for you, if you really want him to know." Lance shook his head.

  
"No, I'm gonna tell him." He sported a small cocky smirk. "Besides, this is how they do it in the movies. Y'know, the main character guy and the villan are like sitting across from each other, and the guy's like, 'sure, you did this, but you never suspected that _this_ is where you went wrong'!" He had risen from his chair and pointed at the invisible perpetrator the supposed main character would have yelled this at.

  
"Alright, Phoenix Wright, get in there, Shiro, Hunk and Allura'll be behind the glass, just look back to me if you want out." Keith gave a small smile. "You're really doing this, huh?"

  
"When would I not be entirely cliché?"

 

  
Lance took a seat across from him. Him. The Man. The man who had been thoroughly convinced that he had kidnapped Lucas Sanchez. The man who had traumatized him, his family. The man who brought nothing but fear into the lives of many.

  
The man was old, not frail, but aged. His hair was black and sleeked, but days of being locked away from his hair products lead it to appearing as a tangled mess. He sported a scratchy-looking beard. His eyes looked dull and greyish white, his mouth in an everlasting frown. He was wearing a simple suit, but no tie, belt or shoes, just awhite dress shirt and cream/tan pants. His skin was pale, bordering on a deathly grey.

  
" _Sanchez_." He said it as if he was welcoming a guest.

  
Lance held his tongue.

  
"I should have crushed you like a roach the moment you came to the harbour. You were nothing but a thorn in my side. And returning to here is the dumbest thing you have done. Aside from stealing from--"

  
"Who do you think you're talking to?" Lance cut him off abruptly, and the man sputtered to a halt.

  
"Lucas _fucking_ Sanchez, what dumb game are you playing--"

  
"You think I'm Lucas?" His tone teetered on coy, innocent. "Oh, if only it were that easy. If you had Lucas, you would have saved his dear old innocent twin brother a hell of a lot of trouble and therapy."

  
The man's face contorted from frustration and confusion to one of sheer fury and seething rage. "Spit out whatever you're working around, Sanchez."

  
"Looks like you've got a case of mistaken identity, friendo."

  
It fell eerily silent. The man's expression was pure shock. It filled Lance with a satisfaction he hadn't known he wanted. The man's thumbs twitched, his body tensed and went rigged.

  
"Yyyyyyyyup." Lance drawled out. Lance leaned forward tauntingly. "Personally, I kind of would have rather had you actually get my scumbag brother, so he could actually suffer for whatever he did to piss you off." The man made a reach for him and Lance quickly withdrew. The air became a solid block. Lance began his retreat.

Lance looked back at Keith, he had said all that needed to be said, even if it did lack the cinematic lustre. But it wasn't about that, it was about saying it. The man who had dragged Lance through hell finally knew he had been mistaken.

  
   
Keith opened the door and Lance went through it. And he didn't look back.

  
   
Back in the car. Back to looking out the window. Back to staticky music blaring out of the stereo.

_Take me home,  
Country roads,_

Lance glanced at Keith. Still focused on the road. But he had an air of unease around him. His shoulders were hiked up and his eyebrows were knitted together. Keith's gaze faltered off the road for a moment and met Lance's eyes.

_To the place,  
I belong,_

"I can't believe you're playing country music in my presence." Was what Lance sputtered out once their eyes met. Keith gave a small scoff and grinned.

"Yeah right. This song isn’t country, it’s heavenly.” He smiled wider, the tension he had in his shoulders drained. Lance guessed whatever he had been worrying about was gone.

  
Back to his home. Back to his bed. His life had more or less fallen back into the same routine he had before, he had barely changed anything.  
  
When he had told that to Keith that night, he had argued that Lance had changed a lot.

  
"Yeah, right. Lance, you're braver than you've ever been. You haven't let this stop you and you never will. You're accepting help, and not dealing with this alone." Lance sighed, as if the days events were just catching up with him. He felt exhausted. “Yeah...” He fell forward and rested his head on Keith's chest. Keith carded his fingers through his hair.

"You'll never be alone."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus, Lance's story is driven to a close. I may continue with Lance's road to recovery from other POVs, and use the same AU for more of their adventures.
> 
> if you take the time to comment anything (most of you lovlies have at least once) even critiques, please do, they brighten my day!


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